Sylvia seemed to call mostly to assure me that though she dropped a speaker on her toe, she’s “totally fine now.”
She was happy as a clam. She was telling me some crazy story of getting ready for going to the county fair tomorrow. I guess there are some sort of chicken races? And they were testing out the chickens? To decide which one to take? I don’t know there were kids talking loudly in the background, but it seemed to involve pushing a chicken out of a mailbox with a plunger?
She said, “Maybe I’ll call again tomorrow, but don’t worry if I don’t. I might just be busy. Like at camp I wrote a lot of letters at first, but then I had so much to do I couldn’t write so much.”
She said she missed us, but she said it so happily. My heart feels like it might burst directly out of my chest.